She Really Is Quite Beautiful
by isimplylovett
Summary: A sensual tale of the growing romance between Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett
1. Chapter 1

Mrs. Lovett eased herself into her tight cotton bodice. After Toby washed in the bathroom and left, she herself cleaned up, not bothering to dry off with a towel. The steam from the scorching water encased the room, giving it a dream-like feel. Water droplets clung between her impressive chest as she used her forearm to clear the clouded mirror that reflected her curvaceous figure, head to knee. She toyed her auburn hair into its usual fashion: a teased mass of kinks and spirals atop her head.

Meanwhile in the pie shop up front Mr. Todd sat across from Toby in a booth. Toby was enraptured munching on a French pastry. "Boy is the bathroom open yet?" Mr. Todd inquired in his usual monotone. Toby, his mouth filled with pastry replied in a muffled "Mmm mins mur!" Mr. Todd rose to his feet before proceeding down the hallway with a long stride.

Mrs. Lovett finished piling hair high on the crown of her head, giving a generous view of her full bosom. Mr. Todd opened the door with great stealth, leaving Mrs. Lovett oblivious. She winked at her reflection then spun, giving a confidence to her step. Her expression became shocked as a gaping Mr. Todd was revealed. He stood speechless as the sight of Mrs. Lovett's dewy body sent waves of forgotten feelings and emotions through his own body. He had never though he could love or make love to another woman after the loss of Lucy… or could he?

Mrs. Lovett had the undeniable gift to comfort him as she was a widow. She knew the feelings of loss and heartache as well as he. She looked at him nervously as he stared contently at her shapely form. An embarrassing blush childishly painted his cheeks in what might have been his first blush in over fifteen years. "She really is beautiful…" He thought. "Maybe I can love again," He said, plunging into a deep kiss.

Mrs. Lovett placed her delicate hands on Mr. Todd's broad shoulders as she pushed him away. "Mr. T!" She exclaimed. "Wot has gotten into you?" Mr. Todd pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. "I am a lady you know, and there'll be none of that!" Mrs. Lovett stormed past him, pleased with the way her game of hard-to-get was going. Mr. Todd remained in the washroom, letting the aromas of Mrs. Lovett's various perfumes and oils waft through his nostrils.

Toby sat idle in a dusty wicker chair as he listened to Mrs. Lovett stomp to her room, where she could dress in peace. She laced up the rest of her corset while pondering the recent occurrence. "Mmm… Mr. T's lips were quite warm against mine, weren't they…" Mrs. Lovett slid into her russet colored gown. "Flowers, pretty daisies," She sang, unaware of Mr. Todd's ear pressed to her door. He never could resist the ring of her breathy voice.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Todd hid around the corner as Mrs. Lovett emerged from her bedchamber. "Hmmmmm hmmm, hmmmm," she hummed quietly to herself as she walked down the narrow hall, her chestnut leather boots clacking noisily on the neglected floors. "Toby, love, would you be a good boy and go flip the open sign?"

"Will do!" replied the boy eagerly, grateful for some busy work. Mr. Todd shyly entered the kitchen, still rosy from their last encounter. Mrs. Lovett pretended not to notice his presence as she prepared meat pies. He stood watching her tiny fists pound the dough, leaving little imprints on each chunk. No one could slide a pie tray into an oven with the graceful tact of Mrs. Lovett. "So Mr. T, just wot might your plans be for the day?" Mr. Todd failed to hear, as he was distracted by the flour that peppered her bust. She slipped a pinky between her breasts as she glanced out the window, her attention on a buggy stopping at the emporium two doors down. "Beadle…" she whispered.

The Beadle had a tendency to come about the pie shop, sample three, maybe four pies, and then berate Mrs. Lovett on uncleanly food preparations. Once, she was even fined fifteen pounds. Mrs. Lovett glared out at him. "Toby, go and flip back the open sign will ye?" she requested, not lifting her gaze. Toby scampered to the door, flipping the wooden board loudly.

"Toby dearest, how would ye like spending the evening at your friend Andrew's place?" said Mrs. Lovett. "Well I guess, if you didn't need any help in the shop…" "Good! I'll see ye later, around half eight?"

"Alright." replied Toby, slightly dismayed at this new plan. Mr. Todd threw Mrs. Lovett a questioning look as her lips curled up into a provocative smile. Toby grabbed his knapsack and swaggered out the front door.

"Hmm. It looks like it's just you and me Mr. T. How ever shall we occupy ourselves…" Mrs. Lovett slowly walked towards him, tracing her finger along the edge of the floury table. Mr. Todd shivered as Mrs. Lovett's hand came up to straighten the collar on his cream linen shirt. He lifted his hand to loosely hold hers, and she didn't pull away this time, keeping her stormy bedroom eyes on his. "You know what I _really_ need lately?" she said, biting her lower lip. "No, but I'd like to."

"I really need… a new bag of flour. I'm almost out, and meat pie production is at it's highest. Would ye like to run on down to the marketplace and fetch me a sack?"

"Uhh, I suppose I could…" Mr. Todd trailed off. Mrs. Lovett pivoted on her right foot and walked back to the oven, where she took out a fresh batch of meat pies. Mr. Todd, still surprised by Mr. Lovett, took his pocketbook off the mantle and headed out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Todd wandered aimlessly through the bustling marketplace. The only thing on his mind was Mrs. Lovett. A stand presented a white Gillyflower, and he could not resist. He pressed the sweet petals to his nostrils before holding it up to the gloomy light. _"Nellie__," _ He thought to himself, the image of her milky skin burned into his memory. "Ey, you gonna' purchase that?" hollered a merchant from across the way. Mr. Todd looked up suddenly, his pleasant memory interrupted. "Yes I will thank you." Said Mr. Todd, tossing a two-pence coin at the man. He sauntered down the cobblestone street, in search of flour.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Lovett rummaged through her oak wardrobe for the perfect outfit. Her hand came up to brush the curly red hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She smiled crookedly to herself, then took a bottle of perfume off her nightstand and spritzed it over her chest. She stopped when the clock chimed four.

"Not much time at all." She said, painting her lips rouge with a small mink brush. Her boots tapped across the floor as she walked to the window. Mr. Todd occupied her thoughts. "I wonder if he really feels the same way…" she said. For Mrs. Lovett, this obsession was more than lust; it was a love so deep it pained her to imagine he felt any differently. She sighed heavily, her breath clouding the window pane. She wiped it away with her hand to see a small linnet bird perched on a branch. She watched it until it flew away.

Mr. Todd carried a Gillyflower in one hand, with a sack of flour slung over his right shoulder. As he approached the pie shop, he noticed something odd: all of the curtains were drawn. He wrapped his hand around the knob and twisted it slowly, wary, yet excited, to see what lay beyond the door. The shop was dark, except for a few candles throughout. The flickering light enabled him to make out the rose petals strewn across the floor.

"So you're back," said a soft voice from the shadows. "And ye brought the flour." Mr. Todd squinted in the dark, but his eyes soon widened. Mrs. Lovett came forth, her black satin corset reflecting the small amount of light produced by the candles. She smiled sweetly at Mr. Todd, who stood there like a little boy. Her skirt fluttered as she ran to embrace him. He clutched her waist tightly as they stared into each other's eyes. His sweet breath mingled with hers as she moved her roseate lips closer to his.

Their mouths met swiftly with a passion. Mr. Todd felt her warm lips move against his. He moved his cheek next to hers to whisper in her ear. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you,' he said, his voice barely a whisper. She listened intently, her expression blissful and her eyes closed. He ran his warm fingers down Mrs. Lovett's bare arm, sending chills up her spine. "Oh Nellie," he murmured, letting the redolent scent of her hair envelope his nose.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was disturbed by a rapping at the door. "Beadle Bamford here!" a man called.


	4. Chapter 4

Mrs. Lovett looked up suddenly. She turned and ran for the bedroom door as Mr. Todd curled his hands into fists. "Damn Beadle!" he muttered. "Do wait sir!" he said. The Beadle did not heed Mr. Todd's warning and burst the door open so wide it hit the wall. Mr. put his hand over his face in exasperation at the Beadle's timing. Beadle Bamford's eager expression soon turned to a glower when he saw the arrangement of candles and petals on the floor.

"So," sighed Mr. Todd, "What might bring you to our little shop so urgently? Can't you read the sign?" he said, gesturing to the 'closed' sign. "Health inspection." the Beadle replied. He looked around the room, then back at Mr. Todd. "What's going on ere?" he asked.

"That's none of your business." Said Mr. Todd through clenched teeth. Without looking down, he scraped the rose petals into a small pile with his feet. The Beadle saw this out of the corner of his eye. "Just where might I find the Lady Lovett?" he asked.

"She's in her dressing room sir. I think she would appreciate a bit of privacy, and now isn't a good time." Said Mr. Todd, slowly shifting the Beadle to the front door. Beadle Bamford pushed past him towards the hallway. "M'lady, might you be hiding in there?" he bellowed in a thick British accent.

Mrs. Lovett groaned as soon as she recognized the voice coming through the door. "Be roight out!" Not only was the Beadle a rude abuser of his privileges, but an arrogant suitor seeking the affections of Mrs. Lovett. She quickly slipped a dress over her undergarments and opened the door, where the Beadle stood waiting. He looked her up and down, stopping at her chest.

Mr. Todd scrambled to get the shop back in order, opening the curtains and clearing the candles. Mrs. Lovett quickly looked back at the Beadle and feigned a smile. "How might I serve ye this fine day?" she asked. "Proper health precautions must be taken m'lady, and I've come to see that you've been runnin' this little shop accordingly." replied the Beadle. Mrs. Lovett led the man to the kitchen where she let him examine the cooking tools. She and Mr. Todd exchanged annoyed looks.

"This spoon appears to be a trifle unsanitary." Said the Beadle, flicking a spot of flour off the handle. He furrowed his brow as he examined a dirty bowl on the counter. "Lady Lovett, I think ye and I should discuss this more thoroughly. If ye'd care to join the Judge and myself I over dinner at the manor, I'd be much obliged." Mrs. Lovett curved her lips into the shape of an O and blew a stray tendril of hair away from her face. "Is that really necessary? Why don't we just chat it over now?" she asked.

"I'm really in quite a rush ma'am, and a dinner tomorrow would be so delightful." said the Beadle, baring his decayed yellow teeth. She glanced anxiously at Mr. Todd, who was glaring hard at the Beadle. "Well," she said with a sigh, "I suppose it wouldn't be too much..." He grinned, and Mrs. Lovett looked away, repulsed.

"Splendid! Half five it is!" said the Beadle with a smile. Mr. Todd took him by the shoulders and led him to the door. "So nice to see you! May we meet again." The Beadle dusted off his jacket and strolled out the shop, humming a cheery tune.


	5. Chapter 5

Mr. Todd spun to scowl at Mrs. Lovett. "I will not let you go to that sick bastard's house!" he yelled. Mrs. Lovett got out of her chair. "If I go to see the Beadle, then all this silly health precaution business will be taken care of." Mr. Todd paced back and forth, irritated.

"I… I don't want what happened to Lucy to happen to you." he stammered. Mrs. Lovett's face softened. Mr. Todd looked up with an expression afflicted with the pain of that awful memory, and Mrs. Lovett came closer to him. She put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "No. I won't let you go alone." he said, pulling away. "I'll come with you if necessary."

Mr. Todd turned and made his way up the stairs to his room. Mrs. Lovett flopped down on the parlor couch and rested her hands over her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she looked upwards as if asking for guidance. "_Why?" _she thought to herself repeatedly. Why did she have to be in love with someone as difficult to get through to as Mr. Todd? He was so cold, yet at times a warmer side came through. How could she break that shell? He had clearly shown an interest in her, but was it as strong as the way she felt about him? She squeezed her eyes shut and drifted into unconsciousness.

Upstairs, Mr. Todd sat in an overstuffed wingback chair. He laced his fingers together and exhaled loudly. His sweet Lucy, he often times pined for her company, her warm embrace, but something had changed. Of course he would always love her, but was there room for someone new? His fondness for Mrs. Lovett had grown more with each passing day, but he felt guilty. This blossoming endearment was new to him, after fifteen long years of being alone, but did it mean he hadn't loved Lucy as much as he thought? He clenched his jaw and got up from his seat. The light from the setting sun came through the window and cast a light across his pale skin, causing him to squint and turn away.

Mr. Todd walked down the stairs to lock up the shop, but paused when he saw Mrs. Lovett asleep. She was peaceful with slumber, her hair of titian sweetly framing her face. Mr. Todd knelt to brush a corkscrew away from her eyes, and kissed her forehead tenderly. "Goodnight my dear." he said.


	6. Chapter 6

"Now Toby, we'll be back in two ticks. I love you." Mrs. Lovett smiled down at Toby. He looked up warily at Mr. Todd, who stood at the door. He held it open as Mrs. Lovett walked through, her curls bouncing with each step. They walked slowly down the cobblestone street.

Mrs. Lovett turned towards Mr. Todd. "Thank ye for coming with me Mr. T." she said meekly. He simply nodded, his face clouded over with disapproval. She sighed and continued on her way. The Judge's manor gradually came into view, it's stately presence impossible to ignore.

Mrs. Lovett clasped her hand around the door knocker and tapped it delicately. When, no reply came, Mr. Todd pounded his fist against the wood. An enervated maid came to the door with purple bruises under her eyes. "Come in. "she said. Her voice sounded drained.

Mrs. Lovett's mouth hung open when she saw the grandeur that surrounded them. A glossy cherry wood staircase curved gracefully over marble floors, and a portrait of the corrupt Judge Turpin hung over the matching fireplace. Beadle Bamford, audacious as always, approached Mrs. Lovett. His smirk disappeared when he saw Mr. Todd. "Oh," he said "I didn't expect the both of you to appear tonight." He stared at Mr. Todd with a chafed look in his eyes. "He _is_ partial owner of the shop, so I figure he has as much of a reason to be here as I." said Mrs. Lovett.

Mr. Todd gazed over the Beadle's shoulder to see Judge Turpin coming towards them. "So good to see you! How kind it is of you to join us for supper." said the judge, a false tone in his voice. He smiled and led them to his personal library.

Mrs. Lovett gawked at the beautiful study. The flame from a filigree sconce licked at the velvet drapery hanging from the windows, and cushions further embellished the rich fabric covering a chaise longue. The Judge sat in a plushy armchair across from the window and gestured to the rest of the seating. "Please do sit." he said. Mr. Todd ambled around the room, viewing the massive collection of books. '_The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,' _and _'Interpretation of Dreams,'_ were among the many.

Beadle Bamford sat next to Mrs. Lovett, too close for comfort. She leaned away to evade the stench of his rancid breath, but he only moved closer. She felt his uneven breathing against her neck. "So," said the Judge, "I hear you haven't been keeping up to par with the health regulations." Mrs. Lovett fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, I do try my best to make sure the pies are prepared in the very finest conditions." she countered. The Beadle shifted his gaze from Mrs. Lovett's breasts to Judge Turpin. "Maybe I did overreact slightly M'Lord. Her work environment really isn't as squalid as I implied." Mrs. Lovett sat quietly, her hands folded neatly on her lap. She turned to see Mr. Todd flipping through the pages of a book. A small bell tinkled from the kitchen.

"Well," said the Judge. "It sounds like dinner's up."


	7. Chapter 7

They came into the dining area. A burnished pine dinner table stretched across the rectangular room, with a crystal chandelier suspended just above it. Mr. Todd tried to seat himself contiguous to Mrs. Lovett, but the Beadle was quick to beat him.

Judge Turpin domineered at the head of the table, his chest puffed out proudly. "Come quick now!" he blustered. The overworked maid surfaced from the kitchen carrying a large silver tray. She awkwardly leaned to set a platter at the Judge's place setting, but faltered and dropped it on his lap. He suddenly grabbed her arm tightly to the point where it was turning purple and she stood back, terrified. "_Next _time, you should be so careful as _not_ to demonstrate your blunderous antics, especially when I have guests!" he said through clenched teeth, making an attempt to stifle his anger. Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened, but the Beadle and Mr. Todd remained unstirred. _'Just what you'd expect from a pompous tyrant,'_ Mr. Todd thought to himself.

Judge Turpin released his hold on the servant's arm. She shakily distributed the rest of the plates and fetched a new one for the Judge as he left to clean himself up. Mrs. Lovett tensed when the felt the beadle bury his nose in her hair. She quickly pushed her spoon over the edge of the table and leaned to pick it up. "Oh how clumsy of me!" she exclaimed. Mr. Todd stared at the Beadle with cold eyes. _'How dare he? Who does he think he is?'_ he wondered angrily. Mr. Todd had grown to be fervent admirer of Mrs. Lovett, but he still managed to control himself (except for that one time when _she _came onto _him_). The Beadle was nearly as bad as the Judge in his mind.

Mrs. Lovett threw Mr. Todd an anxious glance, and he curled his hand around his knife until his knuckles turned white. "Feeling alright Mr. Todd?" asked the Beadle with a peremptory tone. Mr. Todd looked up, annoyed. "No I'm not actually." he said. Before the Beadle could part his lips to speak, Judge Turpin came into the room. "Please excuse the delay." he said.

They ate their meal quietly. The Beadle reached across the table for the gravy boat, unnecessarily brushing his arm against Mrs. Lovett's breasts. She leaned back uncomfortably. Mr. Todd stood to his feet abruptly. "That's enough!" he yelled, pounding his fist against the table. "If you think I'll allow this to go on any further, you're damn wrong!" The Beadle looked up inculpably. "What _ever_ are you goin' on about?" he said. Mrs. Lovett came over to where Mr. Todd was standing and grabbed his bicep firmly. "Please _don't!_" she whispered urgently as Mr. Todd pulled away from her. He stormed towards the Beadle before sending a forceful blow across his face, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Stop this at once!" Judge Turpin called over the noise. Before the Beadle could scramble to his feet, Mr. Todd grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outside. The Beadle extended his cane and smacked it against Mr. Todd's legs causing him to fall to the ground face first. Mrs. Lovett ran outside. "Stop it! _Stop it!_" she cried. Blood flowed from a deep cut on Mr. Todd's face, but he didn't care. He pounded his fist into the Beadle's side, but he returned it with another strike to the head with his cane. Mr. Todd rolled onto his side only to be kicked in the stomach by the Judge.

"Get away from him!" Mrs. Lovett wailed, but the Judge ignored her. She latched on to his back, but he spun around quickly, sending her smashing into the brick wall. She crumpled to the ground like a broken doll. Mr. Todd reached towards her feebly before his hand was crushed by the Judge's boot. "_Nellie,"_ he mumbled before slipping into unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Terribly sorry about the delay, but I had a bad case of writer's block. My mind was blank and I had zip inspiration. This might not be my best work, but I tried. Enjoy!**

Mr. Todd slowly opened his eyes to see a blurry room. His head throbbed with pain, but he was too distracted by his surroundings to notice. His vision cleared to reveal a small, dank cell, entirely built of mildewy stone blocks. The smell was putrid. The only light source was a flickering gas lamp located somewhere down the dark corridor that stretched past his cell.

_'Where…'_ he thought, trying to remember how he got there. Suddenly it all came back, and hit him like a ton of bricks. _'Dinner at Turpin's, the Beadle, Nellie…'_ He felt the pain in his head now. _'Nellie…'_ he trailed. He covered his face with his hands and leaned back against the damp wall. _'No!__ What have I done?__'_

_'__How many mistakes can a man make in a lifetime?__'_ Mr. Todd's bloodshot eyes looked up at the ceiling before closing again. He visualized Mrs. Lovett, her reassuring smile enough to brighten even the gloomiest of London days. She always cared for him, but he was too absorbed in his selfish notions of revenge to notice. Until recently, that is. In the past several months, he had come to be besotted by her charming mannerisms and lovely demeanor. _'If __only,_' he lamented. If only he had been able to pull himself from the fog of retaliation sooner… A loud pattering of footsteps was heard coming down the hall.

He got up slowly and staggered to the bars. A porcine silhouette shuffled towards him, carrying some sort of tray. "Who are you?" he asked cautiously. A plump face emerged from the shadows. "I'm the warden 'ere. Now eat this." He slid the tray under the bars. It had a piece of fusty rye bread and a cup of water on it. Mr. Todd could hardly imagine eating at a time like this. "What am I here for?" he asked. "The judge said ye would know." the man replied before turning to walk away.

"No! Wait, please." He said in an imploring tone. The man sighed and looked back at him. "When do I get out?" Mr. Todd asked. The watchman brushed a greasy strand of hair away from his round face. "Ow' should I know? Just eat the damn food." He spat noisily onto the floor, and Mr. Todd cringed at such a detestable sound. He watched the distorted shadow of the man creep across the stone, filling each crack and crevice with a darkness that he knew so well. He slumped back against the wall and shuddered violently. His eyes watched the flickering candlelight dance across the wall while he battled against the temptation of sleep, only to lose.


	9. Chapter 9

Mrs. Lovett's hand curled tighter around a wad of lace. She sighed loudly, trying to rid herself of the grogginess she felt every morning, but somehow this morning was different. While reaching up to pull the hair back from her face, she discovered a large, painful lump on the back of her head. "How did…" she sat up suddenly. Canary yellow strips of color streaked up and down the wallpaper. This was not her home, but she knew where she was; Judge Turpin's house.

She ran to the door, nearly tripping on the hem of her dress. She furiously tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. _"Damn Turpin!"_ she muttered. Mrs. Lovett stumbled over to the window, but to her dismay it was the third story, and there wasn't much of a ledge to climb out onto. She searched desperately for something small to pick the lock. While rummaging through a small jewelry chest, her hand brushed against what felt like a hair pin. She pulled it out victoriously. _'Perfect,'_ she whispered.

Mrs. Lovett jammed it into the lock. "_Work_dammit!" she said under her breath. She wiped away the sweat from her hands on the bedspread, then gripped the doorknob and twisted it. She jumped as the handle slowly began to turn. The door opened to reveal Judge Turpin.

He loomed over her, his face stern. She backed away slowly. "What have you done with Mr. Todd?" she demanded, still shaking. The Judge's sinister smile disappeared.

"He is away, safe, so you needn't worry. You'll be with him soon enough." He came closer, closer, until Mrs. Lovett's back was pressed to the window. She felt the algid glass send chills from the nape of her neck all the way down her spine. He moved his hand towards her face, and closed it around a tress of her red hair. She didn't move.

"Yes…" he mumbled, "The Beadle has good taste indeed." He let go of her hair. "Where is he?" Mrs. Lovett asked. Judge Turpin frowned and moved to look out the window. "If you really must know, he is residing in the penitentiary on Carnaby Street."

"What has he done to deserve this?" she said, stifling her choler. A baleful expression fell across his face as he lifted a yellow rose out of the porcelain vase on the windowsill. He closed his eyes as he let the divine scent envelope his nostrils. Mrs. Lovett felt a lump in her throat begin to form. "_Please,_" she said weakly. His eyes shifted to hers.

"His behavior last evening was execrable. I thought it was only appropriate to punish him for the atrocities he exhibited." he replied. Mrs. Lovett cleared her throat.

"When is he to be released?" she asked. The corners of the Judge's mouth crept up slowly. "Once you live up to your end of the bargain." he said, a pernicious tone lingering in his deep voice. Mrs. Lovett walked up to him. His wide shoulders met her at eye level, forcing her to gaze up at the face she had come to dread.

"And just what bargain might that be?" she asked suspiciously. Judge Turpin strolled to the opposite end of the room as he spoke. "Perhaps you are aware of my pursuance of a bride. It simply _isn't_ becoming for a man of my stature to be without a wife, and latterly my situation has been most unfulfilling." Mrs. Lovett felt the tears accumulating in both her eyes. She squeezed them shut, forcing several droplets to stream down her ivory cheeks. Judge Turpin failed to notice, or if he did he paid no attention.

"So, my dear, this is what I have concluded. If you might accept my offer, Mr. Todd will be released from jail, _but_ banished from London from this day forth. If you decline my offer, Mr. Todd will remain in jail, and you will stay the eligible woman you are. The choice is yours to make." He waited for a reply, but Mrs. Lovett's saliva was so thick with her emotion she could not speak. Her lower lip trembled quietly as the Judge sauntered away. He stopped at the door. "Let me know when you have decided." He sent a cold rush of air to her face by shutting the door, burning her face where the tears were.


End file.
